


Dark and Stormy Night (or Never Underestimate an Angel)

by soongtypeprincess



Series: South Downs Retirement [5]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic, Edgar Allan Poe References, Funny, Gen, Ineffable Godfathers, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Scary Stories, Silly, Sleepovers, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-08 05:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18888451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soongtypeprincess/pseuds/soongtypeprincess
Summary: “Hmph. I suppose you think that, just because I’m an angel, that I’m too tame to read a scary story properly?”





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I had this in the works for a few weeks now and am finally posting. This is three chapters of ineffable silliness and it certainly helped me through writing my angst fic I still have in the works (ugh).
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> I do NOT own these characters.
> 
> Also, as is obvious, I am NOT Edgar Allan Poe, but I still have to say that here.

Pepper sat on the sofa that was against one of the sunroom picture windows. She had both feet tucked under her and her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Adam was on the floor beneath her, wrapped in one of Aziraphale’s tartan blankets with Dog curled up beside him, while Wensleydale and Brian stood at another picture window and stared out into the darkness.

The rain outside was heavy and the Them were sulking. Their weekend in South Downs with Adam and his godfathers was ruined by the sudden drops that had fallen onto the fire they were building in the cast iron pit outside. The tiny drops became fatter and soon there were black clouds that brought on the torrent of rain and thunder.

S’mores were the plan. Crowley had heard of them and told Aziraphale that it was a type of treat campers made around a fire. So Aziraphale went the grocers in the village and bought two big bags of marshmallows, three boxes of graham crackers, and five king-sized chocolate bars.

“Their parents are going to make us pay their dental bills, angel,” Crowley griped, but Aziraphale was nonchalant. 

“What good is a sleepover if you can’t indulge a bit?” he asked.

Crowley had grinned. “Been to many sleepovers, have you?” he teased. “Is that what went on in those  _ gentlemen’s clubs _ you frequented while I was asleep?”

“You will never get over that, will you?”

“You can hardly blame me for being a bit jealous of the idea of my angel  _ gavotting _ with strange men.” 

Aziraphale smirked. “I did offer to show off my  _ new skills _ , but you weren’t interested.”

Crowley approached him and leaned in, kissing his neck and making him sigh.

“Offer still open?”

“Get off me and help me tidy the sunroom.” 

They were now standing in the open double doors that connected the sunroom to the den. Aziraphale hadn’t thought up a Plan B for a rainy night situation and the worst he could think of was having four hyperactive thirteen year-olds being bored to tears in their old cottage.

Crowley was leaning against the door jamb with his hands in his pockets when he suddenly stirred. “Angel? Our cooker is gas-powered, is it not?”

Aziraphale looked at him and creased his brow. “It is,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

Crowley turned to the kids and announced, “Hey. Who says we can’t make your s’mores inside?”

“Excuse me,” Aziraphale started, “but, I do.”

Brian turned from the window, intrigued by the prospect of s'mores not being cancelled. “What do you mean?”

“We could light the pilot light on the cooker and roast the marshmallows,” Crowley proclaimed with a grin.

The Them lifted their heads from their brooding. 

“That’s a great idea,” Adam said. “It’s not a roaring fire, but it’s still fire.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed, “a fire  _ inside. _ ”

“We won’t turn it up any higher than it needs to be,” Crowley assured him, reading the worry in his face. “Just enough to toast. It won’t take long.”

The kids looked at Aziraphale, full of hope, and the angel sighed. “Fine,” he agreed. “But please be careful.”

Blankets instantaneously flurried off of the Them’s shoulders and they hurried into the kitchen, with Aziraphale and Crowley following.

Dog lifted his head, not really wanting to leave his comfy spot by the sofa, but then he heard boxes and bags ripping open and he scuttled out of the sunroom in hopes of catching dropped food.

Half an hour and an accidentally singed graham cracker box later, there was a plate in the middle of their dinner table piled with s’mores.

Each child helped themselves and Aziraphale realized he had forgotten to buy extra paper towels. Crowley was on it, however, putting a small plate under each of their oozing snacks with a snap of his fingers.

“I didn’t realize they were such a mess,” Aziraphale pointed out.

Wesleydale asked, “Have you never had one, then?” He took another big bite, smearing melted chocolate onto his chin.

“My dear boy, you are asking  _ that  _ to a celestial being who has been amongst humans for over six millenia---”

“No, he hasn’t,” Crowley interrupted.

Aziraphale huffed. “And  _ you  _ have?”

Crowley smirked and picked up a s’more. Another plate appeared in his other hand and he took a big bite, charred and melted marshmallow oozing out from between the crackers. 

He chewed slowly, his taste buds in a sensory overload, and he wiped the corner of his mouth to free it from chocolate. 

He grinned at his husband, his eyes slightly dilated, and said, “I have now.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Uncle Ezra,” Adam goaded. “They’re good.”

“I’ll bet you’ll like it, once you get past the mess,” Brian added.

Aziraphale raised an amused eyebrow at him, this boy who could go from clean-faced to covered-in-chocolate-and-graham-cracker in under a second.

“Here, Angel,” Crowley said, setting his s’more on his plate and handing it to him. “Give it a whirl.”

He reluctantly held the plate in front of him and frowned as he studied it, figuring out the best edge of the sweet to hold onto to that wasn’t a sticky mess.

“Could I use a fork?” he asked.

He rolled his eyes again at the laughter he received.

“Never mind; I get it,” he said, “It’s supposed to be messy.”

“You’ll have to excuse him, kids,” Crowley muttered to them, “he’s not used to eating anything if it doesn’t come with ten different types of cutlery.”

“Really? Just the other day,” Aziraphale pointed out, haughtily, “you were complaining about how you couldn’t find a decent porto in this, um...what did you call it? Hinterland?”

“Well,” Adam said, “I’ve witnessed you eating a slice of pizza with a knife and fork.”

Crowley groaned and covered his eyes. “Please never mention that day again, lad.” He then smiled lovingly at his angel as the Them tried not to giggle again.

Aziraphale sighed and carefully picked up the s’more, tutting at it when melted chocolate smudged against his thumb. 

Crowley leaned toward him, his golden eyes fixed on his husband’s misadventure with his stubborn snack. He grinned and cupped his chin in his hand as he licked chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

“Go on, angel.”

“Yes, in due time,  _ dear, _ ” Aziraphale chided.

He sighed again before taking a bite of the least messiest corner. 

“Bigger than that, love,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale groaned and gave him a deadly glare as the kids giggled. He did indeed make the bite bigger and he grimaced as the marshmallow dripped onto his fingers and chocolate coated his tongue.

He slowly chewed, a bit of melted marshmallow sticking to his chin.

“Oh, here let me get that,” Crowley said as he swiped his thumb across the marshmallow mess while Aziraphale gave him a look that could have discorporated him if he had felt so inclined.

He had to admit, however, the rush of sugar was delightful. The taste was smooth and rich and such a perfect combination of flavors that it perplexed him as to why anyone could eat it in such a crude manner.

It took him a while to chew, but as soon as he swallowed it, the kids lightly applauded and Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile. 

“That’s enough,” he said, his cheeks turning pink as he dabbed his mouth and chin with a handkerchief from his trouser pocket. 

“What did you think?” Pepper asked, wiping crumbs from her mouth.

Aziraphale shrugged. “Tolerable.”

“You loved it,” Crowley teased. 

“Well...alright, it was nice,” he admitted. “Not something I would enjoy all the time, but on these occasions...”

“So it’s settled,” Adam announced, “s’mores for dinner.”

“I don’t think so,” Aziraphale scolded.

“Okay,” Pepper added, “we’ll make popcorn, too.”

“Pardon?”

“What were you saying earlier, angel?” Crowley asked. “Something about  _ indulgence _ ?”

Lightning suddenly flashed, followed by a clap of thunder and all at once the electricity shut off, leaving them in darkness.

The Them groaned. 

“Great,” Wensleydale said. 

“I even brought a scary movie,” Pepper said. “It’s  _ The Exorcist. _ Don’t tell my parents I snuck it from them.”

Crowley giggled. “I can tell you the ending, if you’d like; it’s rather hilarious.”

An antique oil lantern suddenly appeared in Aziraphale’s hand and he set it on the table.

“I’m sorry, dears,” he said. “Seems you came at an inconvenient time.”

“Hang on,” Adam said, “Uncle Ezra, you have old horror novels, right?”

“Well,” he said, “not many, but I do own a few first editions and manuscripts of certain authors.”

“Like who?” came Wensleydale’s intrigued voice in the dark.

“Let’s see, I have Lovecraft, not really my style, but I had customers ask for him a few times. I believe I have  _ The Call of Cthulhu _ . Oh, and then there’s my second edition of  _ Turn of the Screw _ , a ghost story and then---”

“Read us the creepiest story in your collection, please,” Pepper said, her voice full of excitement. 

“Creepy is relative,” Brian told her. “What if the story he reads doesn’t scare us?”

“Hmph. I suppose you think that, just because I’m an angel, that I’m too tame to read a scary story properly?”

Awkward silence was their reply.

Aziraphale huffed and crossed his arms. “Oh, is that so?”

No one answered him again.

Aziraphale pursed his lips and held up his chin. “I had a flaming sword, you know.”

“Yeah, but you barely used it,” Crowley pointed out. “And you  _ did _ give it away.”

“Why would you give away a flaming sword?” Pepper asked, shocked.

“It’s a long story…” Aziraphale mumbled.

Crowley leaned back in his chair. “Well sometimes, love, you can come across as being a bit...soft.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to speak, but turned from his husband.

Adam began to worry that his feelings may have been hurt, but they meant no harm. It was merely an observation. He was an angelic being after all; it was in his nature to be...soft.

The angel cleared his throat. “Right,” he said in a calm tone. “I’m going to my study. You finish your treats and I’ll meet you dear ones back in the sunroom. Yeah?”

He gave them a grin and quietly rose from the table, leaving them in their silence.

A low whine came from under the table as Dog could feel the tension in the air, but also because the s’mores were not messy enough to elicit free-falling crumbs.


	2. Chapter 2

“Angel,” Crowley said, entering the study. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked this while forcefully pushing aside one box to open another.

Crowley approached him. “You _know_ full well what. Okay, you’re not _soft_. You’re...sensitive.”

Aziraphale turned and gave him a frown.

Crowley sighed. “I’m not good at this. Look, I feel bad, the kids feel bad. So bad, in fact that one of them thinks you’re gonna snap and give them a good smiting.”

An grin twitched at Aziraphale’s mouth, and he turned away to pick up a large tome and dusted off the spine. “That isn’t _my_ problem,” he stated.

Crowley stepped closer, where he immediately kissed the back of his neck.

Aziraphale turned to him and caught his suspicious look. “What?”

Crowley grinned. “You’re plotting something.”

“Angels do not _plot._ ”

“Mine does.”

Aziraphale noted the adoration in his tone and he grinned again. “Not plotting, per se,” he replied. “I just want them to know that I, too, have an appreciation for the macabre; that’s all.”

“‘Appreciation,’ eh?” Crowley said. “You want to scare the pants off them.”

“Dear, you really think---”

“I want in.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on...” Crowley groaned, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind as Aziraphale turned to examine another book. “What better way to scare children than to enlist the help of a demon? And...you happen to know a demon, so...” His tongue darted across his earlobe.

“Here it is!” Aziraphale said, half-ignoring his husband as he continued to chew on his ear. He tutted and turned to push him away, but Crowley pushed instead and pressed him into a bookcase.

“It does turn me on when you’re sneaky,” Crowley purred, his lips hovering over Aziraphale’s.

“Darling! The children…”

“Darling, the plot…”

“Okay, you can help me!” Aziraphale relented, kissing him quickly. “ Just try not to scare them _too_ much.”

“Define ‘too much.’”

Aziraphale sighed. “I know you have a flair for the dramatic, but please, no blood from the walls or manifesting spiders or anything like that.”

Crowley licked his lips and thought. “So...no blood _anywhere_?”

“You were actually going to do that??”

He laughed. “No! I wasn’t.” Aziraphale gave him an incredulous look. “Angel, kids love being scared! I should know; I’ve hijacked many Ouija boards.”

\-----------------

“Did he _really_ eat a pizza with a knife and fork?” Wensleydale asked.

They all sat on their respective sleeping bags in the sunroom and were adjusting their blankets around them again.

Dog was still scouting about in the kitchen, still searching for crumbs.

Adam nodded. “Uncle Ant was pretty embarrassed.”

“I’m sorry, but am I the only one who feels like they’re going to be smited in the next few minutes?” Pepper said.

“He’s never smited anyone,” Adam assured her, then paused. At least...I don’t think he has. He’s never mentioned it.” He noticed this didn’t make them feel any better. “ Look, let’s just humor him. It’s better than going to bed early.”

\-------------------

Aziraphale soon returned to the sunroom and sat in an old armchair. The only source of light in the room was from the antique oil lantern that sat on the table next to him, and everywhere else was enveloped in darkness.

The children noticed that the wind had picked up speed as fat drops of rain blew hard against the picture windows.

The angel cleared his throat and took his reading glasses out of his waistcoat pocket. “Are you sitting comfortably, my dears?”

An affirmative murmur came from the Them as they sat still, waiting for him to begin.

The floorboards suddenly creaked with the tread of footsteps and they froze, but, it was only Crowley with a glass of red wine in each hand.

He gave them a sly grin. “Scared already?”

A collective of huffs came from the children who were now more alert, and Brian unconsciously moved closer to the group, wrapping his blanket tighter around him.

Crowley handed one of the glasses to Aziraphale and took a seat on the sofa behind Adam.

“Thank you, love,” he told him after taking a generous sip.

He set down his glass, put on his readers, and began.

“ _The Raven_ ,” he announced in a low voice. “Written by Edgar Allan Poe, published January 1845.”

Adam brought his knees up to his chest and Dog returned to his side and laid next to him.

Aziraphale began: “ _Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore; while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as if someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door_ …”

Pepper turned her head to the darkness of the den and she could have sworn she heard a light thump. She hugged her arms to her, holding her elbows as she looked back at Aziraphale.

“ _For my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore_.” The mournful name came as a sad whisper through his lips. “ _For the rare and radiant maiden which the angels named Lenore - nameless here for evermore_.

“ _And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me_ …”

Something caught Adams’ eye and he glanced at one of the picture windows that held aloft a beige curtain. Strange; he thought for certain that something moved it.

“ _Filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before_ …”

A low rumbling of thunder trembled over the cottage roof, and Wensleydale moved closer to Brian.

“ _Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, and so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, that I scarce was sure I heard you” - here I opened wide the door_...”

Aziraphale paused for effect as he raised his eyes from his book.

The children held their breath.

 _“Darkness there...and nothing more_.”

Pepper sighed and lay on her stomach next to Dog.

He continued the poem, the children occasionally glancing at one another and then at Crowley, who sat on the sofa with a still face, every now and then sipping his wine.

Adam had a suspicion he was up to something, but he hadn’t moved or said anything. He turned his attention back to Aziraphale and remembered to breathe.

“ _Open here I flung the shutter, when with many a flirt and flutter, in there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore_ …”

Pepper heard a soft flutter behind them, as if by a sudden burst of wings. Her right hand moved to touch the floor but fell onto Dog’s foot, spooking him.

She jumped as he yelped and the others, even Crowley, twitched in surprise.

“It’s just Dog,” Adam laughed. “He’s alright.”

“Sorry, Dog.” Pepper pet him and he rolled onto his side for scratches.

Aziraphale grinned and cleared his throat.

He continued: “ _Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; but, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door_ …”

Another thump sounded, this time above the open doors of the sunroom. The kids looked in that direction, but couldn’t see past what the lantern allowed. There was only darkness and a faint shadow.

“ _Perched and sat and nothing more_.”

Aziraphale paused to take another sip of wine and then continued, in a louder voice, “ _Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, ‘art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore…’_

 _‘Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian Shore!_ ’”

He paused again and then, darkly, “ _Quoth the raven_ …”

**_Nevermore!_ **

The Them collectively gasped and shifted in their places on the floor, looking around in the darkness for the ghostly, grating voice that had suddenly surrounded them.

Aziraphale hadn’t moved his lips; neither had Crowley.

A flash of lightning made Brian jump and he pressed against Wensleydale who was enveloped now in his blanket.

“ _Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - till I scarcely more than muttered, ‘Other friends have flown before, on the morrow, will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before?_ ’

‘ _Then the bird said_ …”

Dog suddenly lifted his head and whined before it came again:

**_Nevermore!_ **

“Okay!” Pepper shouted. “That is _not_ funny! Which one of you is doing that?”

“My dear girl,” Aziraphale said, softly, “what are you talking about?”

“I swear, someone is doing that voice!”

“What voice is that?” Crowley asked. “He’s reading it normally.”

“She’s right,” Brian said, “there’s a different voice in here and it’s not coming from Ezra!”

Adam looked up at Crowley. “Uncle Ant, are you the one doing that?”

Crowley scoffed. “Lad, I’m flattered you would think I’m behind this, but I really don’t know what you kids are on about. I’m an innocent bystander.”

“You’re a likely suspect,” Brian accused, “You’re a demon.”

“I’ve retired.”

“I can stop reading if you’re frightened,” Aziraphale interrupted.

Wensleydale shook his head. “Nah, we’re not frightened. It’s just...really weird.”

“Y-yeah,” Pepper stammered, “just weird. But maybe...no more weird voices?”

Dog grunted and looked toward the darkness in the next room. He then got up and moved to the sofa to squeeze under it.

Aziraphale took a bigger gulp of wine and continued. “Right then…”

“ _Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, ‘Doubtless,’ said I, ‘what it utters is its only stock and store_ …”

Another roll of heavy thunder made the cottage roof tremble, but the Them sat still, not daring to move one inch from fright.

Dog was now fully under the sofa, his tail twitching.

Aziraphale’s voice became darker: “ _But the raven still beguiling, all my sad soul into smiling, straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - what this grim...ungainly...gaunt and ominous bird of yore meant in croaking_ …”

He looked at the children again, who were now huddled closer together, their eyes locked on their storyteller.

“ _Nevermore_ …” he whispered.

The kids sighed.

Aziraphale continued the poem and the Them grew less tense as the surprises around them ceased, if only for a moment. The wind was dying and the rain fell softer.

Adam relaxed enough to stretch his legs out in front of him, but Dog kept his place.

Suddenly, Adam noticed a faint smell, like that of burning incense wafting above them. Before he could register where it came from, Aziraphale’s voice grew louder and more urgent, and they all jumped.

“ _‘Wretch!’ I cried. ‘Thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee - Respite, respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh Quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!’ Quoth the raven_ …”

**_Nevermore!_ **

Pepper whined as Adam pressed himself against the sofa. Brian was clinging to Wensleydale while the poor boy was trying to hide deeper into his blanket.

They jolted again when Aziraphale stood, holding his book in front of him.

“ _‘Prophet!,’ said I. ‘Thing of evil! - Prophet still, if bird or devil! - whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore - Desolate yet all undaunted, on the desert land enchanted - on this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore!’_

 _‘Is there - is there a balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!’ Quoth the Raven_... _nevermore!_ ”

Adam pulled his blanket close as Pepper hid her face behind her hands.

 _‘Prophet!’ said I. ‘Thing of evil! - Prophet still if bird or devil! - By that heaven that bend above us - by that God we both adore - tell this soul if sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, it shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?_ ’

“ _Quoth the Raven_ …”

Someone whispered in Adam’s ear. “ _Nevermore…”_ and he jumped out of his blanket and onto the sofa with a loud gasp.

“My boy, are you alright?” Aziraphale asked, taking off his reading glasses with genuine concern.

The others stared at him, sharing the same dread and Adam just nodded. “I thought...I heard that voice again, but…”

Aziraphale shook his head. “There is no voice. It’s just part of the poem. I’m reading it as it’s written.”

“Hang on!” Brian squeaked. “Where’s Anthony?”

They noticed now that Crowley was no longer on the sofa.

Aziraphale motioned to his empty glass. “He’s just opening more wine. Now, sit down, please; the poem’s almost finished.”

Pepper pulled Adam back onto the floor to sit beside her and they both got under their blankets.

“ _Be that word our sign of parting! Bird or fiend!’ I shrieked, upstarting. ‘Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian Shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!_

 _“Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! Quoth the raven_ …”

**_Nevermorrrrre!_ **

The voice was darker and more sinister and it made their flesh prickle as it echoed around them.

“ _And the raven...never flitting...still is sitting,_ still _is sitting...on the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door_.”

A loud flutter sounded like the one from before, and this time a shadow was forming behind Aziraphale. It spread slowly outward like a black hole and enveloped them in its shadow behind the lantern's dim light.

The children’s eyes grew wider and they huddled together, staring at the apparition behind their unsuspecting narrator.

The terror froze their voices and they were helpless.

And Aziraphale continued reading: “ _And his eyes have all the seeming of a_ demon’s _that is dreaming, and the lamp light o’er him streaming throws his_ shadow _upon the floor_ …”

The black figure grew larger and they could now make out what it was: giant, black, stately wings with ragged feathers, spreading wider above Aziraphale’s head.

“ _And my soul, from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor...shall be lifted_ …”

**_NEVERMORE!_ **

Large raptor-like talons came from the darkness and grasped Aziraphale’s shoulders as the lantern’s light brightened and all they could see were massive black wings, and in an instant, the angel was pulled violently back into the darkness behind his chair.

The kids screamed and stumbled over each other to get out of the sunroom and they bolted out the kitchen door and onto the wet grass of the back yard.

Dog darted out from under the sofa and flew down the hallway, scurrying under one of the guest beds and pressing against the wall.


	3. Chapter 3

On the sunroom floor, Crowley was holding Aziraphale to his side, his hands still in talons. They were red in the face as they guffawed.

“Did you--” Crowley laughed, “you see--- their faces?? Haha! Oh, bless it, angel, that was perfect!”

Aziraphale was wheezing so hard that he suddenly snorted, and Crowley cackled.

“Oh, dear---heehee---oh, goodness!” He paused to catch a quick breath. “I almost broke when---haha!---when Adam jumped onto the sofa---when you whispered in his ear!!” 

They laughed harder, Crowley covering his eyes while Aziraphale wiped the tears from his cheeks. 

“Oh, angel...” Crowley took a deep breath and sighed. “I haven’t done a good scare in a while.”

“Did you conduct scares often?”

Crowley shrugged. “Ngk. Just a nun every now and again. Gave Maggie Thatcher a fright though. Fell right on her arse!”

“I thought temptation was more your style.”

“It is as long as it keeps working on  _ you. _ ” Crowley stroked his cheek with one of his talons.

Aziraphale giggled as he grew redder. “You depraved viper!”

“I love you, too.”

“How was  _ I _ , dear?”

Crowley answered him with a passionate kiss, which made Aziraphale fluster even more.

“You were excellent, darling. You’re excellent at everything.”

“Oh, you flatterer. You weren’t so bad yourself.” 

They kissed again and Aziraphale’s hands wandered into Crowley’s hair.

Crowley broke the kiss and looked at him with glowing eyes. “Mmm,” he purred. “I love when you’re wicked.”

“I wasn’t being wicked,” he insisted. “I was being vindictive, there’s a difference.”

“Oh, love, it’s a pity we have to wait till the kids go home,” he kissed him again, “because a certain demon wants to do naughty things to a certain angel.”

“Well, that certain naughty demon will have to be patient,” Aziraphale said, teasing him with a nibble on his bottom lip.

Crowley groaned and kissed his cheek as he released him from his grip, his talons disappearing. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, darling?”

Aziraphale giggled. “No,” he assured him as he sat up, “I’m alright.”

\--------------------

Their socks were soaked from standing in the rain puddles in the yard, and they had ceased their panicking when they heard their laughter from inside.

They stared at one another, shocked and embarrassed that they could fall for their tricks.

Adam gave them instructions and took off behind the trees.

Aziraphale and Crowley stepped onto the back porch as the electricity returned, their faces still red.

“Was that  _ tame _ enough for you?” the angel asked, grinning.

The kids groaned. 

“That was the worst!” Wensleydale shouted.

“I’m still shaking,” cried Pepper.

“I nearly wet ‘em!” Brian exclaimed.

Crowley snorted out another laugh and then he noticed that there were only three children. 

“Where’s Adam?”

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale gasp. “Oh, no! We  _ did _ go too far!”

“Calm yourself, angel!” Crowley said.

They spread out. Pepper looked in the shed. Brian and Wensleydale looked in the bunker below the cottage, while Crowley looked in the house.

Dog sat beside a shaken Aziraphale who was sitting on the porch swing.

“Oh, Dog…” he sighed. “I think we might have overdone it.”

Dog looked up at him with a groan of agreement, but suddenly looked away into the darkness of the trees in front of him. 

Aziraphale noticed that he was staring quite intently. “What is it, boy?”

Dog trotted to the edge of the porch and began to growl.

Aziraphale stood and peered ahead.

Crowley came out of the house and stood behind him. “What’s up?”

“I think Dog heard something,” Aziraphale explained. “He started growling and---”

They heard a rustling ahead of them and Crowley crept closer to Aziraphale, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do you see anything?” he whispered.

“No...I...” 

There was roaring from behind them, and Aziraphale shrieked as Crowley cursed and jumped so high that he almost fell into the elderberry bushes.

Pepper, Wensleydale, and Brian stopped screaming and fell onto the porch in a fit of laughter.

Aziraphale clutched his chest and let out a loud sigh. “Oh... _ goodness!" _

Crowley bent and put his hands on his knees. “Jes-- Ga--- Sa--- _ Someone!” _

Adam then sprang from behind an elderberry bush and Crowley jumped again, but this time a loud crack and a flash followed.

“Oh, now you’ve done it…” Aziraphale groaned.

“What happened?” Adam asked, a bit concerned that he scared his godfather so much that he had spontaneously discorporated. 

Aziraphale dismissed his worry. “He’s fine. He’s just---”

They looked down at the grey and red hognose snake that was curled in a tight ball against the angel’s slipper.

He bent down and carefully picked him up and scolded him. “Now, dear, this is a bit of an overreaction.”

The hognose stared up at him with wide black pupils as it curled its body around Aziraphale’s wrist.

The kids came closer and stared at him in awe. 

“I thought he was a  _ big _ snake,” Wensleydale stated.

“That’s what he tells himself,” he quipped. “Anthony’s true form is that of a large black anaconda-like serpent with a bright red belly. However, as you can see, he can turn into any snake he wants. This is one he chooses when he wants to hide.”

The little snake gave him a short, annoyed hiss.

“Oh, is it not?” Aziraphale asked. “Are you willing to admit, then, that the children ‘got’ us?”

The snake hid his face in the angel’s sleeve cuff.

Adam smirked. “Sorry, Uncle Ant. Didn’t mean to transmogrify you.” He looked at Aziraphale. “How long will he stay this way?”

“Long enough until he’s willing to swallow his pride and be a good sport.”

Crowley rammed his flat nose against Aziraphale’s wrist. 

“Don’t you throw a tantrum with me, young man.”

The kids laughed as Crowley retreated to Aziraphale’s shirt sleeve once more.

“Sorry, Uncle Ezra.”

“No,  _ I’m  _ sorry,” he apologized to them. “Perhaps my scheme to scare you properly was on the verge of traumatizing.”

“Actually,” Pepper said, “it  _ was _ pretty cool.”

Aziraphale perked up and grinned. “‘Cool,’ you say?”

“I was shaking for a long time!” she said. “It was a rush!”

“Yeah, it actually takes a lot to scare us,” said Brian, who abruptly jumped at the sound of Dog sneezing.

Adam smirked. “And I’m sorry for teasing you about the way you eat pizza.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh and pull Adam into a hug. 

“Don’t be sorry, dear. I know I’m a bit old-fashioned.”

“There’s really nothing old-fashioned about eating pizza with---”

“Right, that’ll do, lad. Let’s go inside and get those wet socks off your feet.”

\--------------------

Aziraphale got into bed next to Crowley who was now a red and black garter snake.

He slithered off his pillow and cuddled into his angel’s neck, making him smile.

“Are you really going to sleep like this, dear?” he whispered.

The snake tickled his jaw with his tongue.

“Everything has settled, love. So, please, turn back into my husband.”

Crowley only coiled tighter into the crook of his neck.

“You really are a proud one.” Aziraphale gently stroked his scales. “Or did that sudden transformation exhaust you?”

No movement and Aziraphale sighed as he turn off the lamp light with a snap.

“Good night, children,” he said to the fearless Them, that were on the floor next to the bed, huddled close together and zipped up tight in their sleeping bags.

“Good night,” they replied.


End file.
